A Shinigami's Lie
by Jessicaspoop
Summary: A retelling of Death Note. How the characters met in different ways and how, ultimately it would be their downfall.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's notes: I unfortunately do not own Deathnote. Any comments/feedback would be appreciated!**

 **REM**

I saw him sit awkwardly with his knees draw in and his arms drooping beside his small frame. He was an old, unfinished patchwork quilt; strings loose and frayed. I only ever saw him with a mournful expression as if it was carved into him like stone, or he had never had the chance to smile.

Not that there ever was to in the lifeless plain that was the shinigami realm. He sat there everyday watching a young gothic girl in the human world. He had been sitting there for so long he would soon become fused to the ground like a mound of dirty mould.

"She dies today" I observed as Misa Amane's life clock counted down rapidly.

"But she looks so healthy..." Gelus the shinigami mumbled, as if he could not speak without tripping over his words.

I never could understand Gelus' feelings. He always loved to see that blonde, he loved to she her rejoice and loved to see her suprised, stupidly happy.

Love? A word dropped so causually and we almost mocked it- yet it was untouchable, unreachable. Although we could take the lives of anyone we wanted, crush families into swirls of depression, we were incapable to love. Or so I had thought. That's why I found Gelus so extraordinary, to be able to break through the limits of a god of death - create a purpose for himself, throwing away the one given.

I joined the mumbling quilt to watch the young girl's last moments.

Down a quiet street, unfriendly, artificial lights flickered from lamposts, cutting into the night like a sound in silence. The rain fell in needles from violent clouds, pricking skin and eyes. Her fingers became numb and ears burned. Blonde hair stuck to her face as she dragged her feet, exhausted from the day.

There he was. The man to end her short life. He staggered onto the scene like a drunken performer, a sharp knife gripped tightly in a bloody hand. His eyes lolled uncomfortably in their sockets, spinning uncontrollably like his vision - due to a combination of ecstasy and adrenaline. The rain cooled and calmed his heart that was beating in his throat. He licked his lips tasting the air as if to savour a pleasurable moment.

She heard him.

She spun round frozen from fear and cold rain. He approached her, chewing his lips hungrily, smiling an ugly grin that made blood coil.

"Misa Misa... I-I llove yyou" he slurred, as he twirled the tip of the knife on his finger.

Miss Amane was shaking, the rain biting as hard as her potential fate.

"I'm flattered..." she struggled to find careful words, "truly I am, but I cannot-"

"Well if I can't have you, NO ONE WILL!"

It was all over so quickly.

His knife ran deep in her side producing a red bloom on her shirt, spreading further due to the rain. She grabbed her side and began to run, chunky black boots screaming. He had missed. He began choking, gripping his chest, ugly blood visibly pulsing in his head.

"What's happening?" I turned to look behind. Gelus was slowly crumbling away.

Gelus smiled.

"Gelus! What did you do?"

" I saved her!"

"What's happening to you?"

Then he seemed to evapourate, flying like ashes caught in a breeze, leaving a notebook with a scrawled "Beyond Birthday" inside.

I suppose those who do not obey are punished. Those who change the role of time, who play with higher powers. Those who find their own purpose.

Perhaps.


	2. Chapter 2

**3 Years Later**

 **Misa**

I sipped at my watery, cold coffee. It left a horrible after taste; a tang of bitterness which seemed to fill my head. I twiddled with my number card. I was 402.

Everyone who came were issued numbers and were paired with another; by luck, fate or whatever you believed in.

A couple sat across from me; a tall man lingering over a young woman like the stench of cigarette smoke. His presence was irritating and overpowering. The woman was obviously uncomfortable as she crossed and uncrossed her legs; but it wasn't my problem.

I turned to gaze out the window.

Derelict houses stacked the streets like piles of rubbish, dirty and unwanted. Dotted streetlamps dimmly shone creating, what I thought, a mysterious or depressing atmosphere. The latter seemed more reasonable.

I had decided to disguise my self by wearing a long brown wig and clothes I would never be caught dead in. 'Baggy charity shop ugliness' was what I had decided to call this look. Original I thought.

I wasn't trying to impress. Nor did I want to be recognised or judged for being 'Misa Misa' the supermodel.

"Maybe we should go" rem spoke in her soft voice.

"No" I whispered so no one could hear.

"I have a bad feeling about this"

"You always have a bad feeling about everything! I haven't had any action in my life for a while now and I'm safe as long as I've got this-" I tapped the black notepad hidden under my shirt, "and anyway it's just a blind date! A chance to meet different people and be judged based on my character rather than my looks"

I heard the bar door open and quickly turned around.

"Number 402?"

I waved.

He was tall with raven black hair, jutting out in long spikes. He wore a loose blazer rolled to his elbows, a loose tie swung from his neck. Glasses rested uncomfortably on his face.

The complimentary coffee sloshed as it was thrown down in front of him in an unfriendly manner; the staff obviously irritated.

"Would you mind getting the sugar? I can't think well without it, otherwise my brain activity is reduced by 78%"

I reluctantly got up from our table and got five sachets; all of which he hungrily ripped open and tipped into his coffee, making a thick syrup.

His skin was pale but he seemed healthy apart from his liking to sugar and percentages. I hadn't really taken a liking to this mysterious man, although somewhat attractive.

"So... What's your name? Mine is-"

"Model" he stated.

"What?"

"You're a model"

I narrowed my eyes

"Excuse me?" I said, not trying to hide the edge of bitterness in my voice.

"You are a model" he repeated

"What? How can you be so sure?"

"Well, from a number of things." He glanced up,

"Firstly your manicured nails"

"Lots of people take care of their nails"

"Yes, well your posture and gestures then"

" You don't know what kind of upbringing I've had; you can't just assume"

"Fine. It was your 'catwalk walk' as it were"

I couldn't deny this as from years of training and experience, all good models should develop a certain walk. Me included.

"Your aura and confidence are also that of a model,

"But you know what really gave it away?"

He leaned in and whispered.

"You're definitely a blonde."

A slap of shock hit me across my face as brief smile visited his.

I felt my face burn with embarrassment and also anger. How dare this stranger mock me, I was Misa Amane, the beautiful supermodel. It was absolutely ridiculous. What kind of "gentleman" makes fun of girl? Two could play at that game.

"Detective"

He coughed on his coffee with surprise. He slowly wiped his mouth.

"And how did you come to that conclusion, Miss 402?"

"Firstly" I couldn't help but smile as I twirled a strand of my wig between my fingers, "and obviously, your deductions. Who would examine someone outrightly like that?"

"So does that make you a detective then?" He stated, "aren't you also analysing me?"

"Fine. Its not really about your deductions or gestures or whatever" I deliberately paused as he leant in slightly with interest. His aftershave masked hints of a strawberry scent and his eyes were wide with anticipation; glasses trying to mask pools of observation and calculation.

"Everything about you just screams a detective in disguise- your fake glasses, clothes- which I can tell you wouldn't normally wear as you keep itching. Even your posture! You look so uncomfortable twitching, trying not to hunch. At least I made an effort."

He was looked taken aback with my sudden outburst; his eyes were wider than before.

"Well Miss Model" he took off his glasses and delicately folded them, placing them gently on the table and resumed his composure, "It seems I've underestimated you; it seems the dumb blonde sterotype is wrong"

"It seems so, doesn't it "

I found myself smiling, I had just rudely judged a man that I had only known for five minutes but I had oddly found it exciting. Is this how he got his kicks?

"How's your cat?"he started," You have hair all over the place"

"Oh? And what of your bad eating habits? I'm sure strawberries and sugar is not a recommended diet" I shot back.

"And what of yours Miss 402? Feeling hungry after just a few green leaves?"

"Ha! That's your favourite colour"

"Yours is blue"

"Pink actually"

"Because you like the same colour as your sister?"

"Whatever, at least I'm not destroying brands by wearing them"

"At least I'm not jealous of my younger sisters success"

"At least I am a normal person who doesn't analyse everything!"

"At least I'm not a blonde!"

A silence.

I burst out laughing. He looked utterly bewildered; eyes wide and staring as if he had never seen someone laugh before.

"Sorry " I wheezed between heavy laughs, "I got a bit carried away there" as I wiped tears from my eyes. This feeling felt familiar yet distant, I hadn't really had a proper laugh in ages.

He smiled briefly and I began to question if it was actually this man that felt familiar yet far away, as if he were not really here.

"Fine Miss Model, what about that lady over there?"

He nodded in the direction of a very skinny lady, around the age of 30- although her bad smoking habits had aged her significantly.

Stained teeth chewed on gum and yellow fingers drummed on the table. She didn't seem to care about her appearance but comfortable in her own skin as the way she sat still spoke confidence and authority. A secondary school headteacher perhaps? Smoking to rid of stress from work? Although actually, she were more likely to be a manager in an office, her back slightly hunched towards, what would be in the day, work.

I told my thoughts and he nodded in agreement.

"Correct" he said "She's one of the finance directors of Yotsoba, the large company"

Afterwards we talked a little- about work, family, my cat and although I wouldn't have liked to say or admit I really did enjoy his company. He was intelligent, witty and made me laugh even though himself only stretched to a smile.

He was like the perfect storm of wild hair and honesty. Maybe too honest for his own good.


End file.
